


Just the Way You Are

by Kat_Rowe



Series: Who Needs Heaven (when we have each other)? [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Accepts Aziraphale Just As He Is, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Demisexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Developing Relationship, Hair Washing, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Relationship Discussions, Showers, Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24887980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Rowe/pseuds/Kat_Rowe
Summary: Angels are, at their creation, biologically asexual. All too aware of his own vulnerability to pleasures of the flesh, Aziraphale has spent 6,000 years avoiding the sin of Lust by simply never adopting the equipment necessary to experience it.Until his relationship with Crowley started to grow more intimate (and more physical), Aziraphale never gave it much thought. Physical incompatibility can be solved in an instant, but he finds himself worrying how Crowley will react, and about the assumptions he might make.Now that they're covered in stardust and on their way into the shower, the issue can't be avoided any longer. But a tense discussion is a small price to pay for a romantic shower with your best friend in the universe.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Who Needs Heaven (when we have each other)? [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657927
Comments: 45
Kudos: 104





	Just the Way You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Not exactly a content warning, but just so my readers know what they're in for:  
> There's a discussion every Ace-spectrum individual eventually needs to have when they start getting serious with a non-Ace individual. It's easy to make assumptions and come to conclusions about a person with a sexuality different from your own (this works both ways), and it's important in a romantic relationship for everyone to be on the same page. I imagine when your asexuality is biological as well as psychological, it only complicates matters. 
> 
> So this series definitely needed that discussion at some point, and here it comes. It's mixed in with a shared shower, much naked cuddling, mutual hair-washing, Aziraphale being Aziraphale, and Crowley being Crowley. Aziraphale is a bit anxious and insecure (as he is in general), but it doesn't last. This is shamelessly, sappily romantic and, despite some serious issues being discussed, both Aziraphale and Crowley are basically comfortable with, and accepting of, each other's identities. 
> 
> Many thanks, as always, to Zorianne for the beta work and suggestions. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

As often as he’d visited Crowley’s flat lately, he’d never actually been in the bathroom. Neither of them really had any need for it, although it looked like the kind of room one could spend a good deal of time in. It was, of course, as spacious and modern as the rest of the former angel’s apartment. The tub, already full and fed by a series of fountains, could comfortably have held four or five people. The shower stall had jets all up and down its three walls. It seemed a bit excessive, as many things about Crowley’s style _were_ , but at least he would be able to get thoroughly clean. And the tub must be a lovely place for a relaxing soak with a good book. He’d have to remember that for later.

“Angel?” Crowley murmured as Aziraphale loosened his belt. 

He jumped a bit, forcing himself to smile as if he wasn’t dreadfully nervous. “Do you still want to join me? In the shower?”

“Only if you’re comfortable. I promised to slow down to your pace, and I meant it. I thought it might be nice, though, just being close tonight. Wouldn't be the first time, really. Remember Rome? The thermae? We’d sit for hours, just soaking and talking.”

“And those amazing massages afterwards,” Aziraphale remembered, smiling. 

“Amazing? Really? Not what I’d call them. Don’t you remember that big German bloke they had for a little while? I thought he was going to dislocate my arm a few times.”

“Well, it was hardly his fault that most of your joints aren’t in quite the right places. Any masseur probably would have made the same mistake.”

“I knew there was a reason I haven’t had a real massage in almost two thousand years,” he answered, grimacing and rolling his shoulders. 

“Well, I’d be happy to offer my services, any time you like.” 

Smirking, Crowley eyed him up and down, practically purring. “Oh, it would be _so_ easy to make a joke right now, angel.” 

“Well, thank you for refraining,” he answered, fidgeting and hoping he didn’t sound _too_ prim. 

“I can leave, if you want. I know you’ve always been a little shy.” Frowning thoughtfully, he added, “In fact, I can’t recall ever seeing you completely naked, even at the thermae.”

“Yes, well…” Clearing his throat, he explained, “People assumed certain things about me already. If I’d walked around without a loincloth, they certainly would have come to some much worse conclusions.” 

Crowley’s eyes narrowed, and Aziraphale could almost hear him thinking, trying to remember. Finally, he said, “Quite a few people considered you effeminate at the time, but I didn’t think it bothered you.”

“Of course it didn’t, not really. I mean, by the standards of the time and culture, I wasn’t _at all_ masculine.” Clearing his throat, he added, “And I didn’t exactly have the anatomy to persuade anyone otherwise. Do you… remember how our bodies were at the very beginning?”

The former angel’s eyes widened at that and he stepped closer, cradling his face in both hands. “Is _that_ what's had you skittish?” he asked gently. “Aziraphale, were you afraid of how I’d react to your biology?”

His tone was so tender and full of understanding that Aziraphale felt his anxiety melt away. This was Crowley, after all. Crowley who had spent thousands of years putting up with his eccentricities and stupidity. Crowley who loved him, who had _always_ loved him, through all the obstacles and pain of their fraught relationship. A sexless body was nothing compared to everything else they’d been through together. Of course Crowley wouldn’t mind. How silly the angel had been to be anxious.

“I was… My anatomy’s never been relevant until recently. I had planned on finding out what sort of lover you preferred anatomically, and adjusting accordingly. You wouldn’t have had to know, if I’d handled things better,” he tried to explain, staring at his feet rather than looking at his friend.

“Don’t you dare change yourself!”

He looked up at Crowley with wide eyes, startled by his vehemence. “But… you want our relationship to eventually become sexual, don’t you? I assume that my lack of sexual organs would interfere with that considerably.” 

“I don’t want you to change who you are, not for me, you stupid angel. If this is the body you’re comfortable in, it’s the body you should be in. I don’t want you altering yourself to suit my tastes.”

“But I want to be what you like. I don’t want you… _needing_ anyone other than me,” he whispered, chest painfully tight and stomach roiling. “Not like that. Is this what jealousy feels like? I don’t like it.”

“Of course you don’t like it,” Crowley answered, drawing him into a tight hug. “But I doubt you’re feeling jealous. Not sure you have that in you. Maybe you’re insecure? You don’t feel like what you are is enough? Even though you know better deep down, you think your lack of experience and your angelic body aren’t what I want from a lover?” he ventured gently.

Wrapping his arms around Crowley, he nodded weakly, hiding his face in his friend’s shoulder and allowing himself a moment to just cling to that warm, welcoming body. _How_ had he survived so long without regularly embracing or being embraced? 

“I used to feel like that every day, angel. Well, in a way. Like I wasn’t good enough for you. Like I was the worst possible thing you could ever want and all I could ever offer you was sin and misery. But your feelings will pass like mine did, I promise. Because you’re the only thing I’ll ever need in this ridiculous existence. Just you, being the you I’ve always loved.” 

“I want to make you happy, in… in every way.” 

“You just painted my face across the sky, Aziraphale! You’ve held me, and groomed me, and kissed me, and invited me into your bed. We shared a dream. You gave me one of your feathers as a _gift_ , and accepted one of mine in return. Do you honestly believe your lack of dangly bits changes anything?”

The angel stared at him in shock, then giggled helplessly. _Dangly bits?_ He had never expected to hear Crowley string those two words together in that particular context. As was so often the case, his best friend’s complete lack of gravitas was a joy as well as a relief. 

The universe was moving properly today, in time to the Music Of the Spheres. God in Heaven playing Her ineffable games. Crowley on Earth being completely and utterly irreverent. And one very happy angel, who adored both, and would never feel torn between them again. He could love both now, with his whole being, no longer held back by ignorance or uncertainty.

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the tattoo on Crowley’s face. “I love everything about you. You know that, don’t you, my dear?” 

“Of course I do. Even if you didn’t tell me so ten times a day, your sickeningly sweet behavior makes it inescapably obvious. Let’s have that shower? We’ve been hugging so much that we’re _both_ covered in stardust now.”

“But the hugs were very nice,” Aziraphale pointed out. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of hugging you.” 

“Well, I hope not, because you’re stuck with me now.”

“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be stuck with. Eternity wouldn’t be the same without you,” he admitted, smiling shyly and slowly pushing down his trousers and pants. 

The difficult part was resisting the urge to cover himself. He’d gone six thousand years without showing his entire body to anyone, or even being nude in private for more than a few moments at a time. He trusted Crowley, trusted him so very much, but he felt painfully exposed and vulnerable all the same. More so than he ever had before, even the first time Crowley had walked into his bedroom and seen him hopelessly trying to care for his neglected, abused wings. 

He hadn’t expected it to feel like this, had assumed the care they had given each other was the most profound form of intimacy that two beings could experience. And, really, it was. But this intimacy was so much more physical, so much more _human_ , which made his lack of sexual organs considerably more unnerving.

Crowley stared down at the Absence between Aziraphale’s legs, not trying to hide his scrutiny, but not being dramatic about it either. Shrugging, he bluntly announced, “Yeah, looks like the standard factory model to me. Bit of extra flesh around the pubis to allow for emergency cosmetic alterations, and, of course, undifferentiated internal gonads, should you decide to start experimenting with hormones.”

“Well, that’s… clinically accurate,” the angel whispered, squirming and swallowing hard.

“Just trying to point out that I’ve seen it all before. Used to have the exact same setup myself. And I promise, angel, you look just fine to me.” He rested a hand on his belt-buckle, but didn’t move to loosen it, just asked, “You still okay with my company?”

There was a great deal of relief in knowing that Crowley was genuinely untroubled by Aziraphale’s asexuality. It had felt like it would be the greatest hurdle in their burgeoning relationship but, with a few words, Crowley had successfully laid all his doubts aside. Aziraphale had never felt as secure about their relationship as he did right now, and the idea of being so close to Crowley was glorious. 

Smiling shyly, he pointed out, “I have seen you naked before, repeatedly. The stall may be a bit snug for two people, but I’m sure we’ll manage just fine.”

“Just another excuse to cuddle. Like you need one.”

“Well, I _do_ quite enjoy cuddling,” the angel admitted, smiling shyly and stepping into the shower stall. “I seem to recall that you prefer very hot water?”

“The hotter the better, just so you don’t burn yourself,” Crowley answered, miracling away his trousers and underthings while Aziraphale fiddled with the taps. 

The sensation of a dozen high-pressure streams of hot water suddenly hitting him from different directions was lovely, almost like a massage. No wonder Crowley had invested in this setup. It might have seemed extravagant, but he could already feel the water washing the stardust from his skin and easing his fatigued muscles.

A quick downward glance told the angel that his friend was shaped more or less like a normal human male today. 

Well, normal except for how beautiful he was. 

So many angles and edges would probably be unappealing on anyone else, but they’d held each other often enough for Aziraphale to know how soft and yielding that sharp-looking body really was. Besides, the angel was beyond denying it to himself; no person and no form would ever appeal to him the way Crowley did. He was lovely, inside and out. 

Oh, what would it be like for that beautiful body and its perfectly imperfect owner to wrap around him completely? To hold him close all night, for every night from now on?

“Is the water warm enough for you?” he asked, refusing to let himself be daunted by the fact that they were both nude and would soon be nude in a small space together. He trusted Crowley, of course, so there was nothing to be nervous about. More than that, though, he truly did _want_ Crowley, on every level including the physical. Any residual anxiety he had just hadn’t gotten the memo that everything was all right now. “I… you look quite lovely, Crowley.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, angel,” he answered, reaching into the shower with one hand to test the water, then nodding. “Feels perfect. Ready for company?”

“I think so, yes.” 

Crowley stepped into the stall, slipping behind Aziraphale and wrapping his arms around the angel’s waist, just as he had while showing him how to craft the nebula. Sighing at the familiar feel of his friend’s body against his, he leaned back and closed his eyes. Perfect. This was simply perfect. Judging from his friend’s chuckle, he knew it, too.

“You like that, angel?”

“Of course I do, my dear. It feels wonderful. I’m not too cold for you, am I?”

“Stop worrying. I love how cool your skin is against mine. It’s perfect.”

He smiled at that, closing his eyes. “As long as you’re sure.”

“Positive. Eug, your hair is full of stardust. Lean your head back,” Crowley directed, reaching around him for a bottle of shampoo.

“Oh, you don’t have to…” he began, feeling oddly shy and wondering why it was the idea of having his hair washed that suddenly had him flustered. Their nudity hadn’t, nor their proximity. Not even showing himself fully to Crowley for the first time had flustered him as badly as the idea of having his hair washed by those long, deft fingers. Perhaps because it was as close as humans could come to properly grooming each other? ”You don’t need to do that.”

“I don’t _need_ to groom your wings, either,” he answered, as if reading Azirphale’s mind, “but that doesn’t stop either of us from enjoying it.”

“Well, I suppose you’re right about that. But only if I get to wash your hair, afterwards.”

“I think I like our new Arrangement,” Crowley teased, kissing Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“So do I, my love.”

“If either of our previous Head Offices could see us now,” he laughed, gently urging the angel to tilt his head back. “Close your eyes. Don’t want to get soap in them.”

Obediently leaning back and squeezing his eyelids shut, he asked, “Do you think they’d come after us? If they knew?”

“I don’t think it would change anything. They’re scared soulless of us right now. And, by the time they stop being terrified, they’ll have allowed themselves to forget an insignificant pair of defectors. They won’t want to face whatever they think we might be capable of if they piss us off. And the longer we’re out here together, the more we might be capable of next time, and the more we might be capable of _together_. Self-interest will keep them from coming after us,” Crowley assured him, long fingers working shampoo into Aziraphale’s hair. 

“Always the optimist, aren't you?” the angel asked, closing his eyes and trying not to groan at how very lovely it felt to have his dearest friend massaging suds into his scalp.

“One of us has to be an optimist, and it was never going to be you,” he answered, then lifted his head and shouted, _“Oi, Gabe, you seeing this, wankwings?”_

Aziraphale jumped, gasping and quickly turning. Urgently lifting both hands to cover Crowley’s mouth, he protested, “Don’t!”

Hissing softly, he nipped sharply at the angel’s fingers. Aziraphale grimaced, withdrawing his hands. The skin was a bit red, but hadn’t been broken, despite his friend’s very sharp teeth. Maybe it was what humans called a love-bite? Or maybe he just objected to having his mouth covered when he was trying to insult an archangel.

“Crowley, you shouldn’t bait them like that!” he pointed out.

“So no asking Lord Beelzebub if they’re watching, too? Or asking Sandalphon when he’s going to turn us into salt? What about EarthObs? The whole department must be getting quite an eyeful right now,” he pointed out, looking upwards and making a rather suggestive hand-gesture.

Aziraphale choked softly at that, stifling a whimper. “I knew there was a reason I seldom take all my clothes off,” he groaned, aware that he was blushing but unable to stop himself.

“Angel, I promise you, Earth Observation has seen much worse than a pair of blokes having a friendly shower together. We’re not even using strigils on every inch of each other’s bodies this time. Remember those days?”

“I remember that you wouldn’t let the bathhouse attendants near you, and you made _me_ scrape you down instead.”

“You were actually good at it. Got every centimetre, and you were always gentle with the tender spots. I let an attendant do my back once. Broke his nose when I accidentally elbowed him in the face for getting too aggressive with my shoulder blades.”

“Lucky for him that he wasn’t working on your feet.”

“Oh, I knew better than to let anyone near my _feet_.”

“You let me near them quite often. I seem to recall that you quite enjoyed when I washed them.”

“They were tender back in the day. Only you knew how not to hurt them. Now turn around so I can finish your hair,” he directed, smiling fondly at the angel. 

“That feels delightful, my dear,” he admitted as Crowley resumed his care. Closing his eyes, he sighed with pleasure, leaning back against his love’s slim chest. 

“Glad you like it,” he answered, fingers continuing to play against Aziraphale’s scalp even though his hair must have been thoroughly saturated with shampoo by now. “Did you know that your hair is almost as soft as your feathers?”

He shook his head a bit, then hopefully asked, “Can I wash yours now?”

“Of course you can,” Crowley assured him, reaching for the shower spray and rinsing the angel’s hair, careful not to get any soapy water in his eyes. “Not sure mine is as soft as yours, but I still think we’ll both enjoy it.”

“I certainly will. I love being allowed to take care of you,” he admitted, turning to face his friend. 

“Likewise, angel.” Smiling, he ducked his head under one of the jets of water, soaking his hair and turning his back. 

Pouring shampoo into his hands, Aziraphale began rubbing it gently into Crowley’s red hair, smiling at the sensation of slippery soap, warm skin, and sleek hair under his hands. He’d always been one to enjoy the physical pleasures a human form could provide, and this was no exception. His only real regret was that Crowley had so little hair at the moment. Washing those long curls would have been glorious.

He spent much more time than was remotely necessary with the shampoo, then caressed the back of Crowley’s neck for just a few moments before rinsing his hair. The angel would never, _ever_ get sick of touching that warm, welcoming skin.

“Mmm, don’t forget the conditioner, angel,” he moaned, looking absolutely boneless but still somehow managing to stay upright. 

Resisting the urge to laugh at his friend slouching there looking like a rag doll, Aziraphale obediently massaged the conditioner into Crowley’s hair and down to his roots. “How long does it have to stay in?” he asked, letting his fingers caress the back of his friend’s neck again.

“Just a few minutes,” he answered, turning towards the angel. Wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s waist, he smiled lazily down at him. 

“If you like, I can wash your back while we wait,” he offered, not sure he’d ever be able to get enough of taking care of Crowley.

“That sounds wonderful. Just be careful around the shoulder-blades.”

“Of course I will be, dear one. I wouldn’t want to get elbowed in the face after all,” he teased.

“Shut up and get to work,” he mock-grumbled, turning his back to Aziraphale again and rolling his shoulders a few times.

“Just relax, my love,” the angel advised, smiling tenderly. “I’ll be gentle with you.”

“You always have been gentle. Even in the very beginning.” 

“I could sense how different you were, right from the start. Being kind to you was second nature,”Aziraphale told him. “You never meant any real harm with the apple business, and I, uh… I suppose it just felt as if you could use a bit of kindness.”

“And you never stopped giving it to me.”

“I couldn’t. Once I started being kind to you, and seeing how much it meant, there was no stopping it.”

Crowley didn’t answer, at least not out loud. He just grunted softly and bowed his head, waiting for Aziraphale to begin.

He’d always been very slim and, if Aziraphale wanted, he probably could have counted every rib and vertebrae. For a few shocking moments, the angel found himself wanting to do just that, to run his fingers down Crowley’s back, from neck to tailbone, counting as he went. He’d seen Crowley shirtless or naked quite often, especially in the past few weeks, but he’d never had such an intense urge to touch bare skin. After all the cuddling and grooming they’d done recently, he knew exactly what it felt like: warm and soft; smooth like the scales he no longer had most of the time; and just the tiniest bit yielding, but only when he wanted it to be. His skin was a delight to touch, and realizing that he was actually, completely allowed now was a bit unnerving after so much self-denial. 

“Still with me, angel?” Crowley eventually asked.

He jumped a little, startled back to reality. “What? Oh, yes! Sorry, I just… You have a beautiful body.” 

Clearing his throat nervously, he miracled up a bath pouf covered in suds and lightly ran it over his friend’s shoulders. Shoulder-blades were the most tender part of any angel or demon’s body, so one had to be quite careful when washing them. As always, or at least as always _lately_ , Aziraphale was gentle with his oldest friend.

Crowley angled into his touch as he worked, giving a soft hiss of approval. He didn’t try to converse for a time, but finally asked, “Why so quiet?”

“No real reason. I just… It’s striking. You’re striking. Your body, I mean. To look at.” He wanted to say more, but shut his mouth firmly since he was already babbling. 

“Striking? Is that a step up or down from being beautiful?” he challenged gently, without a trace of teasing in his tone.

“I… I don’t know, but it makes me want to touch you,” Aziraphale admitted, blushing. “I… I mean, well, impulses like that are new.” 

“It is a pretty common desire,” he pointed out, turning to face Aziraphale and cupping his face gently in both hands. Aziraphale had never expected Crowley to be so tender and understanding, and now he found himself wondering how he could possibly have worried he might be anything else. “Angel, even people who aren’t interested in sex sometimes want to touch and be touched. You’ve been starved for it, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but I didn’t realize it before. I just knew I was missing… something. I thought loving and being loved by you would be enough. But, lately…”

“You want more?”

“It’s you. Of course I want more,” Aziraphale told him, fidgeting a bit. “The more intimate we become, the more we share, the more I _need_. To be with you, and to be close to you.” 

“Come here,” Crowley directed, drawing him into a firm hug and resting his forehead against Aziraphale’s. “Angel, it’s allowed now. All of it. Anything you want. Anything you need. All allowed.”

“I don’t know what I need,” he admitted. “Not yet. I’ve never felt like this before. I… I’m not frightened any longer, but I do still feel very confused, and a bit unsure,” he admitted, smiling weakly. 

On one level, he knew exactly what he wanted. On another, more than six thousand years of complete abstinence made anything else a daunting consideration. Who was even to say what six millennia in the exact same body did to one’s ability to alter it at will? Or at all? 

“We’ll get through it,” Crowley promised, kissing his forehead. “I’ll help you when I can, and we’ll muddle through the rest together.” 

“Together,” he agreed. Smiling shyly up at his friend, he whispered, “It’s a lovely word, don’t you think? _Together?_ ” 

Crowley nodded in agreement, then suggested, “When we’re done here, let’s go straight to bed.”

“You and your naps,” the angel chuckled, shaking his head fondly.

“Not what I was thinking, for once,” Crowley assured him. “You, me, two pairs of wings, little music, good scotch, nice heavy blanket to cuddle under? Hrmm?”

“Oh, that does sound amazing, dear.” 

“I thought you’d approve,” he answered with a grin. Snapping his fingers, he stopped the water, miracled away the soap and conditioner, and had them both wrapped in large, soft towels. “That’s better, isn’t it, angel?” 

“Delightful,” Aziraphale agreed, holding his towel with one hand as he stepped out of the shower stall. 

The tiles on the floor were warm against his feet, which he was sure Crowley loved. Cold tended to be very uncomfortable for the former angel. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if that was because he’d once been a snake, or because his normal body-temperature was so high. Possibly both. He always radiated heat, which was lovely for anyone near him, but he also loved basking in the sun or under a heat lamp. The angel was learning to enjoy basking, too, especially when he could do so at Crowley’s side. 

The former angel moved to his side after a moment, resting a warm hand on his bare shoulder. Smiling tenderly, he offered, “Shall I miracle up a nightshirt for you? Pajamas?”

Aziraphale hesitated, adoring the gentle way that Crowley offered. It could only be a response to his earlier ridiculous uncertainty over revealing his body, an oblique assurance that things would only progress at a pace Aziraphale was comfortable with, if they progressed at all. That promise left him feeling surprisingly bold. After all, if they could enjoy a shower together in all innocence, what need did they really have for clothing in bed?

“I’m fine,” he told Crowley, tugging the towel free of his waist and folding it neatly. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to bed like this. Unless you think it would be too tempting for either of us. Which is a fair assertion!” he quickly added. 

He smiled at that, expression warm but playful. “I’m _always_ tempted by you, angel. Fortunately, I have a Heaven of a lot of practice keeping my hands to myself.”

“You… you needn’t keep your hands entirely to yourself,” Aziraphale whispered, smiling nervously. “If you’d rather not, I mean. I truly enjoy touching you, and being touched by you. And, now that you’ve seen me as I am, there’s no more reason for anxiety or concern, is there?”

“There never was cause for concern, you beautiful idiot. You could have told me you were sexless ages ago and saved yourself a lot of worry.” 

“I know I should have done, but… I didn’t want you thinking that my anatomy translated into a lack of interest or willingness.” He hesitated, then pushed on, urgently whispering, “Inexperience doesn’t make me stupid, and it doesn’t keep me from knowing what I want. I want _you_. You’re the only thing on this entire planet that I can’t do without. I know it took me thousands of years to even admit that we were friends but, now, we’re so much more. I desire things I didn’t in the past. I would be grateful for a lack of haste, but it’s not wholly necessary. And I feel it only fair that I assure that I no longer want our old boundaries to apply.” 

Crowley smiled at that, one of the perfect, loving smiles that he never seemed to use for anyone other than Aziraphale. He rolled his shoulders and manifested his wings, giving them a good hard shake and grinning at Aziraphale. Removing the towel from around his waist, he dropped it carelessly onto the floor and squirmed underneath the blankets. 

“Your wings are so beautiful,” Aziraphale breathed, willing his own into existence before climbing under the covers as well, sliding towards Crowley and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Yours aren’t bad, either, now that they’re being groomed on a regular basis by someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

“I’ve never been groomed so frequently in my life, and you always do such a wonderful job, my love,” the angel told him, lifting a hand to smooth back Crowley’s damp hair. “I… I mean, I’ve been wondering something.”

“Oh?” he prompted, smiling curiously down at Aziraphale.

“You mentioned things like hugging and kissing in public.”

Voice soothing, Crowley reminded him, “Only if you want to.” 

“Oh, I do. I truly do. I was just wondering… should I still call you my friend, or are we lovers now? I know we haven’t actually made love at all, and I don’t want to be presumptuous, but calling you my friend feels a bit like a lie at this point. An understatement or… omission.”

“Mmhm, there’s no reason we can’t be both, angel,” he noted, grinning and kissing the tip of Aziraphale’s nose. “Friends and lovers. You’ll always be my best friend, of course, but lover has a nice ring, too, don’t you think?”

“It does,” he agreed. “And I love you so very much. I just wasn’t sure, since we’ve never…”

“Angel, you’ve been around long enough to know that there’s more to love than just sex. Our relationship couldn’t be more intimate if we tried. It’s been thousands of years since I let anyone touch my wings, but I let you do it all the time. A lack of sex doesn’t mean a blessed thing, not after everything we’ve shared. Of course we’re lovers now. Lovers, who are also friends.”

“Lovers, who are also friends, who also kiss and hold hands in public?”

“The more public the better, far as I’m concerned. Call it Pride, angel, but I want _everyone_ to know that you chose me, out of the population of the entire planet.” 

“I could never have chosen anyone else. I hope you know that,” he murmured, kissing Crowley’s shoulder, then lifting his head and pressing his face into one silky black wing for a moment before telling him, “I want the world to know that you chose me, too. I want people to see us together, and to wish they felt even half the joy we do.”

“Careful, angel,” Crowley teased. “That’s _definitely_ Pride.”

“I’ve always been a bit Prideful,” he admitted, coloring.

“Don’t forget your tendencies towards Sloth and Gluttony,” Crowley teased, laughing softly. “That’s more than half of the Big Seven, right there, if you count wanting people to Envy us.”

“Well, I’ve never been much of a fan of Wrath, and I like to think I’ve kept Greed to a minimum, so I’m safe there at least.” 

Still chuckling, the former angel made a thoughtful sound. “I know we’re missing one. Wonder what it could be…”

He blushed worse, but bantering with Crowley had always been more enjoyable than it had any right to be. “I believe it’s eating owls, isn’t it?”

Crowley blinked, staring at Aziraphale with those beautiful, luminous eyes of his and looking completely perplexed. “Owls? _Really?_ The birds? Those owls?”

“Oh, yes. It’s in the Bible,” he assured Crowley, nodding wisely. “Leviticus.”

“Still pretty sure it’s not actually one of the Big Seven, angel,” he snorted, grinning and shaking his head. “So tell me, oh great Biblical scholar, is there a rule against letting an angel sit in your lap?”

He grinned shyly up at Crowley, blushing a little. “It’s not covered anywhere that I can recall, no.”

“Then get over here,” he directed, smiling warmly and opening his arms to the angel.

Smiling happily, Aziraphale slid over, settling down between Crowley’s legs and leaning back into that warm chest. “I love when you hold me like this.”

“I like it, too,” Crowley chuckled, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s waist and burying his face in the angel’s feathers. 

“Sometimes I think you like my wings more than you like me, dear one.” 

“Well, to be fair, they are _very_ sexy wings.”

Aziraphale laughed at that, turning enough to stare at Crowley over his shoulder. “I wasn’t aware wings _could_ be sexy.”

“Yours can be, when they’ve been properly groomed,” Crowley answered, grinning and running his hands through the angel’s feathers. “Don’t you think my wings are sexy? Should I be insulted, angel?”

“Well, I don’t think they’re sexy, but your wings are quite beautiful. They’re like you. Lithe and graceful and probably in possession of far too many bones, and such a lovely, subtle variety of colors.” 

“Too many bones?” Crowley repeated, laughing. “Is _that_ why you were staring at my back for ages earlier?”

“Well, I’ve wondered how many vertebrae you have for a long time and, when I went to scrub your back, well… you’re very slim and it occurred to me that I could count them all.” Squirming, he admitted, “With my fingers, I mean. I wanted to count them with my hands, touch them all.”

“So I think your wings are sexy and you think my back is?” he snorted, and it was hard to tell if he was teasing or not.

“Not sexy, just… beautiful, like everything about you.”

“Well, I suppose that’ll just have to be close enough,” Crowley answered with a smile in his voice, feathering the angel’s shoulder with gentle kisses. 

“You have a very lovely body,” he answered, skin tingling where Crowley’s lips touched. “I wish mine could be half as beautiful for you.”

“Your body’s just fine, angel, and Gabriel is a complete prat for implying otherwise.” 

He smiled weakly at that, snuggling back against Crowley’s chest. “I’ve always admired your human form. You were lovely as a snake, too.”

“Not in the same way, I hope?”

“No, not in the same way. But you did have the most gorgeous coloration I’d ever seen.”

“That’s not saying much. That shortly after the creation, you can’t have seen that many sets of coloration.”

“Nonsense. I was there when Adam and Eve named every living thing. There were so many beautiful creatures, but none quite like you. When you slithered up the wall, for just a moment I was afraid you’d missed the Naming. I wasn’t sure if I should bring you to Adam, or call down the archangels. And then, suddenly, there was a demon standing beside me. It took me a moment to realize what you were. I didn’t know demons could be beautiful until I saw you.”

“You make it sound like love at first sight,” Crowley snorted. 

“We both know it wasn’t. I was curious about you and you were intrigued by me. It was as good a basis for a friendship as any, and we kept running into each other all the time, so…” He trailed off, eyes widening, and turned to stare to stare at Crowley, kneeling between his legs and studying his friend’s face. “Were you _following_ me? All that time?”

“Not _all_ of the time,” he answered with an unrepentant smile. “Like you said, I was intrigued. So, whenever we happened to be in the same region, I’d pop by to say hello.”

“All those years I thought it was a coincidence!”

“Angels are too trusting. Once is a coincidence, twice is a pattern. Three times is when you should start knowing better.”

Aziraphale smiled shyly, looking down for a moment, then quickly deciding that ‘down’ was not a good direction to be staring while facing a completely naked Crowley. Staring at the tattoo on his temple instead, he said, “I suppose I’m lucky that you weren’t intent on Tempting or harming me.”

“For a little while I thought Tempting you could be a fun side-project,” Crowley admitted, smiling and shrugging. “But you weren’t like the other angels. I told myself you’d be too easy to Tempt, no real challenge in it.” His smile fading, he continued, “That was never it, of course. I didn’t understand _why_ , not until later, but I never wanted to harm or compromise you. What you did for Adam and Eve, in defiance of Heaven itself… It was so brave of you. I thought all the brave ones Fell, ‘til I met you.”

“I wasn’t brave,” he protested quietly. “I was terrified.”

“But you did it anyway, didn’t you? You knew _exactly_ what they’d do to you if you got caught, but you did it anyway. Sounds brave to me.” Crowley shrugged. “And let’s not forget our little caper to prevent Armageddon. And the fact that you walked into Hell to protect me.”

“You faced down several archangels to keep _me_ safe.”

“Yeah, but that was just me being cocky,” he answered, smirking. “Did I ever tell you that I breathed fire at them? I thought Sandalphon was going to wet his pants.”

Aziraphale giggled at that, covering his mouth with one hand. “Crowley! You _didn’t_!”

“Of course I did. How could I resist? Served them right, the way they treated you.” 

There was absolutely no response to that, or at least not one Aziraphale was able to come up with on short notice. Instead he settled for tangling his hands in Crowley’s soft hair, and leaned in, kissing him tenderly for what could have been seconds or hours. 

Crowley finally broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Aziraphale’s and whispering, “I’m so glad I climbed the Eastern wall that day instead of one of the other ones.”

“I like to think that the Almighty would still have found a way to throw us together eventually,” he whispered. 

The former angel laughed softly at that, stealing a quick kiss before lying down and tugging Aziraphale with him. Sighing happily, the angel stretched out next to his love, resting his head against his warm chest and gently capturing one of Crowley’s hands in his own.

“Hey, want to try that shared dream thing again?” Crowley offered. Or maybe it was a challenge rather than an offer.

“Of course. The Garden again?”

“Eastern wall. I’ll see you there,” Crowley assured him, closing his eyes. “Don’t be late. I hate dreams where nothing happens.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” the angel promised, closing his own eyes with a happy sigh. “I love you, Crowley, dear,” he mumbled as he drifted into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, some headcanon:  
> For anyone who hasn't read the book ~~**go out and buy a copy, silly!!!**~~ , it explicitly states (when it is noted that people tend to view Aziraphale as gay) that angels are biologically sexless unless they choose not to be. (Which makes perfect sense when you consider that they aren't designed with reproduction in mind.) Both the book and show also state that, for angels, "size and shape are just options."
> 
> My personal headcanon, especially since watching the series, is that Crowley has spent much of history being biologically male or female (usually male, but comfortably fluid in both his gender and sex). Crowley has been sexually active over the years, although quite rarely by human standards. 
> 
> Aziraphale, meanwhile, has maintained biological asexuality as a defense against temptation, and identifies/presents almost exclusively as male in gender because it simply strikes him as being a better fit. 
> 
> And now for something completely different. Since it's mentioned in this story a few times, who wants Roman bath-house fic?


End file.
